University of Virginia Library

ACT the FIRST.

Scene, a magnificent Apartment in Periander's Palace.
A violent storm of Thunder and Lightning.
Phædra and Archon.
Phædra.
Away! no more:—why thus pursue my steps?
Begone and leave me; leave me to my woes.

Archon.
Yet, Phædra, be advis'd.

Phædra.
Presume no further.
Advis'd by thee! no, let your pliant king,
Your king of Naxos, to thy treach'rous counsels
Resign himself, his people, and his laws.
Thou hast undone us all; by thee we die;
Yes, Ariadne, Phædra, Theseus, all,
All die by thee!

Archon.
Princess, your fears are groundless.
Your timorous fancy forms unjust suspicions.
If you but knew me—

Phædra.
O! too well I know thee.
This very morn tis fix'd; yes, here your king
Gives audience to th' Ambassador of Crete;
Here in this palace; here, by your persuasion,
He means to yield us to the rage of Minos,
To my vindictive father's stern demand.
Ere that I'll see your king; here wait his coming,
And counteract thy base ungen'rous counsel.

Archon.
This storm of passion bears your reason down.
Let prudence guide thee. In a night like this,
Why quit your couch, and to the whirlwind's rage,
The vollied light'ning, and the war of nature,
Why wilt thou thus commit thy tender frame?
[Thunder and lightning.
Again that dreadful peal!—All-gracious pow'rs!
What crime provokes your wrath? must this fair island,
That long hath flourish'd in th' Ægean deep,
Must Naxos with her sons, a blameless race,
Burn to the centre, and the brawling waves
Close o'er the wreck for ever?

[Another clap of thunder.
Phædra.
Oh! that burst
Shoots horror to my soul.

Archon.
Thus through the night
Hath the wild uproar shook the groaning isle.
Fierce rain and liquid fire in mingled torrents
Came rushing o'er the land. The wrath of Heav'n
Rides in the tempest. Tow'rs and sacred domes
Fell in promiscuous ruin. Ships were dash'd
On pointed rocks, or swallow'd in the deep.
Destruction rages round: amidst the roar,
When all things else, when ev'n the fiercest natures
Shrink from the hideous ruin, you alone
Walk through the storm, with fierce, with haggard mien,
A form that suits the dreadful wild commotion.

Phædra.
Yes, with a heart, in which the storm that rages,
Surpasses all the horrors of the night.
Yes, here I come supreme in misery.
I only wake to cares unknown to him
Who treads secure the paths of humble life,
And thanks the Gods for his obscure retreat,
For the blest shade in which their bounty plac'd him.

Archon.
'Twere best allay this tempest of the soul.

Phædra.
'Tis you have rais'd this tempest of the soul.
You, Sir, are minister; you govern here,
And bend at will an unsuspecting monarch.
To thee he yields, his oracle of state;
And when with wrongs you have oppress'd mankind,
'Tis the king's pleasure; 'tis the royal will.

Archon.
Unjust, ungen'rous charge! have you forgot,
When first your vessel reach'd the coast of Naxos?
You sued for leave to land upon the isle:
You and your sister Ariadne sent
To pray for shelter here. Ere that we heard
Theseus was with you; Theseus, whom the state
Of Athens sent a sacrifice to Minos,
A victim to absolve the annual tribute,
Impos'd by conquest: Ariadne's love,
Her generous efforts to redeem the hero,
Ev'n then were known at Periander's court.
The wond'rous story on the wings of Fame
Had reach'd our Isle; she pity'd, and she lov'd him.

Phædra.
She lov'd him!—Yes, she saw, and she ador'd.
Gods! who could see the graces of his youth,
His cause, his innocence, the hero's mien,
Manly and firm, yet soften'd by distress,
Gods! who could see him, and not gaze entranc'd
In ecstacy and love?—What have I said?
My warmth too far transports me—ah! beware
(aside)
'Twas as you say; she pity'd, and she lov'd.

Archon.
She favour'd his escape: you fled together.
To ev'ry neighb'ring isle you wing'd your flight.
You visited each realm; with pray'rs and tears
Wearied each court. All fear'd your father's pow'r.
You came to Naxos; Periander's will
By public edict had forbid your landing.
You anchor'd in the bay; with olive branch
Your orator came forth. Did not I then—

Phædra.
You succour'd our distress: the tear of sympathy
Stood in your eye; and you may boast your merit,
You play'd it well, Sir,

Archon.
This ambiguous strain
But ill requites the offices of friendship.
For you I watch'd the temper of the king,
His ebbs and flows of passion: in apt season
You landed here. Thrice hath the waning moon
Conceal'd her light, and thrice renew'd her orb,
While you, meantime, have liv'd protected here.
Each hour has seen your sister Ariadne
Rise in her charms, and now with boundless sway
She reigns supreme in Periander's heart.

Phædra.
True, we have found protection from your king.
Three months have pass'd; but in that time a statesman
May change his mind. New views of interest,
New plans of policy, fair seeming motives,
May give new principles.

Archon.
It is my first,
My best ambition to relieve the wretched.
You wrong me, princess; you had best retire.

Phædra.
No; Periander first shall hear my suit.
Here will I wait his coming; on the earth
Fall prostrate at his feet, implore his mercy,
Cling round his knees, and never loose my hold,
Till his heart melt, and save us from destruction.

Enter Theseus.
Theseus.
What plaintive sorrow thro' the lonely palace
Alarms my list'ning ear?

Phædra.
That well-known voice
Dispels my fears. O! Theseus, how my heart
Bounds at thy lov'd approach! and yet this day
Decides your doom. Archon can tell you all.
This day resigns you to my father's pow'r.
Here Periander has resolv'd to answer
Th' ambassador of Crete.

Theseus.
Controul thy fears.
Archon has serv'd me, and I thank him for it.
All will be well; the king protects us still.
Archon, the storm that threaten'd hideous ruin
At length subsides. The angry blast recalls
Its train of horrors. Through the sev'ring clouds
Faint gleams of day disclose the face of things.
The raging deep, that rose in mountain billows,
Sinks to repose: The winds, the waves are hush'd.
From yon high tow'r, that overhangs the bay,
I view'd the ocean round. No sail appears,
No vessel cleaves the deep, save one escap'd
From the wild uproar of the warring winds,
That with it's shatter'd masts, and lab'ring oars,
Stems the rough tide, and enters now the harbour.

Phædra.
Another sail! and enters now the harbour!
From whence? Who and what are they? From what coast?
Alas, from Crete! 'tis Minos sends; my father's wrath
Pursues us still; another embassy
Comes to demand us all.

Theseus.
Controul this wild alarm,
And banish ev'ry fear.

Archon.
Perhaps some vessel
Rich with the stores, which busy commerce sends
From the adjacent isles, on Naxos' coast
Now seeks a shelter from the roaring deep.
I'll to the harbour. Theseus, be it thine
To pour o'er Phædra's woes the balm of comfort,
And hush her cares to peace. From Crete, I trust,
The messengers of woe no more will come,
To urge their stern demand.

[Exit.
Phædra, Theseus.
Phædra.
Go, traitor, go;
Pernicious vile dissembler!

Theseus.
Ah! forbear.

Phædra.
He seems a friend, the surer to betray.
Full well he knows that Ariadne's charms
Have wak'd a flame in Periander's heart.
To that alliance with a statesman's craft
He stands a foe conceal'd: He dreads to see
On Naxos' throne a queen from Minos sprung,
And therefore plans our ruin.

Theseus.
Yet thy fancy,
Still arm'd against itself, turns pale and trembles
At shadowy forms. Were thy suspicions just,
Wherefore reveal them? Why unguard thyself,
And lay each secret open to your foe?
With him, whose rankling malice works unseen,
While smiles becalm his looks, 'twere best pretend
Not to perceive the lurking treachery.
Reproof but goads him, and new whets his passions,
Till what was policy becomes revenge.
Detected villany can ne'er forgive.

Phædra.
And must I fall in silence? must we perish,
Abandon'd by ourselves, tame, willing victims,
Nor let the murd'rer hear one dying groan?
Must I behold him with his treach'rous arts,
A lurking foe, nor pour my curses on him,
But poorly crouch, and thank him for the blow?
Oh! love like mine, the love which you inspir'd,
That each day rises still to higher ardour;
Think'st thou that love like mine will calmly see thee
Giv'n up a victim to my father's rage?

Theseus.
And think'st thou then that Archon is my foe?

Phædra.
He is; I know him well; he means destruction.
Th' ambassador of Crete will soon have audience.
Archon concerted all. Oh! if my care
Could counteract his dark, his fell designs,
Then were I bless'd indeed. When first you landed
A helpless victim on the Cretan shore,
Full well you know, soft pity touch'd my heart,
And soon, that tender pity chang'd to love.
I wish'd to save you: Ariadne's fortune
Gave her the clue that led you thro' the maze.
Her zeal out-ran my speed, but not my love.
And would my fate allow me now to save thee,
Then by that tie ('tis all my sister's claim)
I then should prove me worthy of thy love.

Theseus.
Deem me not, gen'rous Phædra, deem me not
Form'd of such common clay, so dead to beauty,
As not to feel with transport at my heart
Thy pow'rful charms. To Ariadne
I owe my life. That boon demands respect,
Demands my gratitude. But love must spring
Spontaneous in the heart, its only source,
Unmix'd with other motives than it's own,
Unbrib'd, unbought, above all vulgar ties.

Phædra.
And yet while ruin—

Theseus.
Check this storm of passion,
Nor think, with abject fear that Periander
Will e'er resign us. Ariadne's charms
Have touch'd his heart. His words, his looks proclaim it.
In the soft tumult all his soul is lost.
He dwells for ever on the lov'd idea,
And with her beauty means to grace his throne.

Phædra.
Archon abhors the union: To prevent it,
His deep designs—

Theseus.
Hear what I shall disclose,
And treasure it in sacred silence seal'd.
Last night admitted to a private audience,
Wrapt in the friendly mantle of the dark—

Enter an Officer.
Theseus.
What wouldst thou? speak thy purpose.

Officer.
At the harbour
That fronts the northern wave, a ship from Athens
This moment is arriv'd.

Phædra.
Relief from Athens!

Officer.
Your presence there by all is loudly call'd for.

Theseus.
Say to my friends, I will attend them straight.

[Exit Officer.
Phædra.
A ray of hope to gild the cloud of woe.

Theseus.
Now Phædra, mark me. Let thy fears subside.
Last night when ev'ry care was lull'd to rest,
No eye to trace my steps, no conscious ear
To catch the sound, then Periander granted
A private conference: I unbosom'd to him,
In confidence, the secrets of my heart.
To Ariadne I resign'd all claim;
Renounc'd each tender passion. Periander
No longer view'd me with a rival's eye.
He promis'd his protection. Ariadne
Has pow'rful charms, and the King bears a heart
To beauty not impassive. Joy and rapture
Spoke in his eye, and purpled o'er his face.
With vanity she'll hear a Monarch's sighs,
Proud of her sway. A diadem will quench
Her former flame, with glitt'ring splendor tempt her,
And make the infidelity her own.

Phædra.
But if she hears a sister dares dispute
A heart like thine—

Theseus.
Trust to my prudent caution.
That dang'rous secret I have skreen'd with care.
Here it lies buried. Periander thinks
A former flame, kindled long since in Greece,
Preys on my heart with slow consuming fires.
But hark;—beware;—this way some hasty step—

Enter Archon.
Archon.
The Greeks now issue on the shore. They bring
Tidings from Athens, and from every tongue
Your name resounds, and rings along the shore.

Theseus.
Thy friendship knows no pause; each hour you bring
New succour to the wretched. Princess, farewell.
Archon, I thank thee, and now seek my friends.

[Exit.
Phædra, Archon.
Princess, if once again I may presume
To offer friendly counsel, from this place
'Twere best you now retire. Yon Eastern clouds
Blush with the orient day. My royal master,
Attentive ever to the cares of state,
Will soon be here.

Phædra.
Let him first hear my pray'r;
Permit me here to see him. To the voice
Of misery his ear will not be clos'd.

[A flourish of trumpets: the back scene opens, and discovers a throne.
Enter Periander, and attendant Officers.
Phædra.
Oh! Periander, 'midst the nations fam'd
For wisdom and for justice, let thy heart
Incline to mercy. Spare, oh! spare the wretched.

Periander.
Rise, Princess, rise. That humble suppliant state
Suits not the dignity of Minos' daughter.
Whence this alarm, and why those gushing tears?

Phædra.
We fled for refuge to you. Oh! protect,
Protect the innocent. You gave us shelter;
It was a godlike act; recall it not;
Yield us not victims to a father's wrath,
Nor by one barbarous action sully all
The glories of your reign. Save Ariadne,
Save Theseus too: our misery claims respect.

Periander.
Save Ariadne? can that beauteous mourner
Suspect my promis'd faith? perhaps ev'n now,
Like some frail flow'r by beating rains oppress'd,
She pining droops, and sickens in despair:
Oh! quickly seek her: with the words of comfort
Heal all her woes; raise that afflicted fair,
And bid the graces of her matchless form
Flourish secure beneath my fost'ring smile.
When Ariadne sues, a monarch's heart
Yields to her tears with transport.

Phædra.
Men will praise
The gen'rous deed: the gods will bless thee for it.

[Exit.
Archon.
The Ambassador from Crete with Minos' orders
Attends your royal will.

Periander.
He shall be heard.

[He ascends his Throne.
Enter Aletes.
Periander.
To Naxos' court, Aletes, you are welcome.
You come commission'd from the Cretan King:
Now speak your embassy.

Aletes.
In fairest terms
Of friendly greeting Minos, Sir, by me
Imparts his rightful claim. He knows the justice,
The moderation that directs your counsels:
He knows, though oft' in the embattled field
Your sword has reek'd with blood, your wisdom still
Respects the rights of kings; respects the laws,
That hold the nations in the bonds of peace.
To you, Sir, he appeals; he claims his daughters,
His rebel daughters, leagu'd against his crown:
He claims the victim from his vengeance rescued;
Rescued by fraud, by Ariadne's fraud;
And here at Naxos shelter'd from his justice.
A sov'reign and a parent claims his rights.
You will respect the father and the king.

Periander.
Of Minos' virtues, his renown in arms,
His plan of laws, that spread around the blessings
Of sacred order, and of social life;
Laws, which ev'n Kings obey, the world has heard
With praise, with gratitude. All must revere
The Legislator, and the friend of man.
But in the sorrows that distract his house,
Is it for me with rash mistaken zeal
To interpose my care? is it for me
To judge his daughters' conduct? What decree,
What law of mine, what policy of Naxos
Have they offended? All who roam the deep
Find in my ports a safe, a sure retreat.
Should I comply with your proud, bold request,
The hardy genius of this sea-girt isle
Will call it tyranny, and pow'r usurp'd.
'Tis law, and not the sov'reign's will, that here
Controuls, directs, and animates the state.

Aletes.
The law that favours wrongs, and shelters guilt,
Subverts all order. Through her hundred cities
All Crete will mourn your answer. With regret
Minos will hear it. By pacific means
He would prevail; by justice, not the sword.
But, Sir, if justice, if a righteous cause
At your tribunal lift their voice in vain,
I see the gath'ring storm; I see the dangers
That hover round your isle, and o'er the scene
Humanity lets fall the natural tear.
The sons of Crete, a brave, a gen'rous race,
Active and ardent in their monarch's cause
Already grasp the sword. I see the ocean
White with unnumber'd sails; your coast, your harbours
Beleaguer'd close. I see the martial bands
Planting their banners on the well-fought shore;
Your hills, your plains glitt'ring with hostile arms,
Your cities sack'd, your villages on fire,
While from its source each river swoln with carnage
Runs crimson to the main. I see the conqueror
Urge to your capital with rapid march,
And desolation cov'ring all the land.
Still, Sir, you may prevent this waste of blood;
Your timely wisdom—

Periander.
The scope now appears
Of your fair seeming message. And does Minos,
Fam'd as he is in arms, say, does he hope
With proud imperious sway to lord it o'er
The princes of the world? And does he mean
To write his laws in blood? And must the nations
Crouch at his nod? Must I upon my throne
Look pale and tremble, when your fancied Jove
Grasps the uplifted thunder? Tell your king
He knows my warlike name; knows we have met
In fields of death, oppos'd in adverse ranks,
Braving each other's lance; he knows the sinew,
With which this arm can wield the deathful blade,
Or send the missive javelin on the foe,
Thirsting for blood.—Go, bear my answer back,
And say besides, that Naxos boasts a race
Rough as their clime, by liberty inspir'd,
Of stubborn nerve, and unsubmitting spirit,
Who laugh to scorn a foreign master's claim.
You've spoke your embassy, and have our answer.

Aletes.
Unwilling I bear hence th' ungrateful tidings.

[Exit.
Periander, Archon.
Periander.
To-morrow's sun shall see him spread his sails:
He must not linger here.

Archon.
Your pardon, Sir,
This answer may provoke the powers of Crete,
And war, inevitable war ensues.

Periander.
Let the invader come: here we have war
To meet his bravest troops.

Archon.
But where the numbers
To man each port, and line the sea-beat shore?
Within the realm should the foe flush'd with conquest
Rear his proud banner—

Periander.
With auxiliar aid
Greece will espouse my cause. The fleets of Athens
Full soon shall cover the Ægéan deep,
And with confederated bands repel
A tyrant's claim.

Archon.
Each state will urge its claim.
Minos demands his daughter: Greece expects
Her gallant warrior, and ev'n now asserts
To crown his love, the princess as her own.
Let Theseus spread his sails, and steer for Greece,
With Ariadne, partner of his flight.
You gain that gen'rous state: by ev'ry tie
Of honour bound, Athens unsheaths her sword,
And haughty Minos threatens here in vain.

Periander.
Yield Ariadne! yield that matchless beauty,
Where all the loves, where all the graces dwell!
No, I will save her; will protect her here
From rude, unhallow'd violence. Do thou
Haste to the palace, where the princess dwells;
Say to th' attendant train, ourself will come,
To tell the counsels which my heart has form'd.

Archon.
Ay, there it lies, there lurks the secret wound.
Love strikes the sweet infection to his soul.
'Tis as I fear'd (aside)
—Perhaps by mild remonstrance
We may gain time, and by the specious arts
Of treaty and debate prevent the war.

Periander.
You know my orders; see them straight obeyed.

[Exit Archon.
Periander
alone.
Yes, Ariadne, from the inclement storms
Of thy rude fortune, it is fix'd to shield thee,
And soften all thy woes. Her father then,
When with her milder ray returning reason
Becalms his breast, shall thank the friend that held
His rage suspended, and with joy shall hear
That Ariadne reigns the queen of Naxos;
Here rules with gentle sway a willing people,
And with her virtues dignifies my throne.